The Promise of Home. Kathryn Springer

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The Promise of Home - Kathryn Springer Mills & Boon Love Inspired

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She peeked at him through a fringe of golden lashes. “Your dog is pretty.”

       Violet tossed her head and preened as if she’d understood, even though Dev was certain no one had ever used that particular word to describe her before.

       “Do you like dogs?” he asked.

       Tori nodded shyly.

       “Well, she likes kids.”

       “For breakfast?” Dev heard Jenna say under her breath.

       She stopped several feet away, hovering in the background like a Black Hawk helicopter, ready to swoop in and rescue her children at the first sign of danger.

       Dev wondered what had happened to make her so suspicious.

       Or maybe it was him she didn’t trust. The last two weeks, Dev had spent more time in the woods than polite society. Not that he was complaining—most of the time he preferred it that way.

       “Violet likes to have her ears scratched. Right here.” Dev demonstrated and the dog growled her appreciation. Three pairs of eyes widened at the sound. “Don’t worry. That’s the noise she makes when she’s happy.”

       “That’s what she did when she picked up Aunt Jenna’s shoe,” Logan whispered.

      Aunt Jenna.

       The relief that arrowed through Dev didn’t make any sense.

       From the top of her shining hair to the tips of her pedicure, Just Jenna was not his type. She was beautiful, no doubt about it, but everything about her shouted high maintenance. Stylish clothing. Simple but expensive jewelry.

       Not to mention she was still looking at him the way she would a ketchup stain on her white jeans.

       Jenna reminded him too much of Elaina Hammond. His ex-fiancé had always insisted on having the “best” of everything. The relationship ended when they’d no longer agreed on what that meant.

       “Can I pet Violet, Aunt Jenna?” Tori repeated. “Please?”

       Jenna tossed the dog a dubious glance. Fortunately, what Violet lacked in looks, she more than made up for in doggy smarts. She thumped her tail a few times and wiggled her eyebrows, a veritable canine poster child for good manners.

       Jenna sighed. “I suppose so.”

       “Me, too.” Logan dropped to his knees in front of the dog, whose lips peeled back to expose a row of gleaming white teeth.

       Dev heard an audible gulp.

       “Don’t worry. She’s smiling at you,” he said. “Violet, meet Logan J. Gardner.”

       The boy tentatively reached out a hand and his mouth dropped open in amazement when Violet lifted a paw the size of a snowshoe for him to shake.

       “See? She’s very well trained,” Dev murmured.

       Jenna turned one slim ankle to examine her shoe and Dev almost laughed.

      Point taken.

       “What kind of dog is she?” Logan asked.

       “According to the vet, mostly German shepherd and husky.” Dev ruffled the dog’s ears. “I found her running loose in the woods last summer when she was a pup. It took a few days and two packages of hotdogs to get her to trust me. That’s how she got her name,” he added. “She was shy as a violet.”

       Tori plopped down in the grass and Violet cemented their new friendship by swiping the girl’s cheek with her tongue. Tori drew back, giggling.

       “See Aunt Jenna! She doesn’t bite.”

       “Only shoes.” Dev tipped a smile at Jenna.

       A smile she didn’t return.

       “I’m sure Mr. McGuire has things to do today. And so do we.” Jenna glanced at the cabin and Dev was pretty sure he saw her…shudder?

      Wait a second.

       “You’re staying here?” The moment Dev had laid eyes on Jenna, he’d dismissed the notion she’d been staying in the cabin and assumed she had somehow gotten lost and ended up mistaking the long driveway for a road. It happened all the time in an area where the locals had a tendency to give out directions based on natural landmarks rather than official signs.

       “We have to.” Logan sidled closer to his sister. “So our Mom knows where to find us.”

       Dev had no idea what that meant, but for a split second, he saw Jenna’s composure slip. The flash of vulnerability an unexpected, almost startling, contrast to the confidence she wore with the same ease as her designer labels.

       The speed in which Jenna had recovered from her initial embarrassment over their unusual introduction, restoring both her dignity and poise as swiftly as she’d replaced her shoe, told Dev she placed a high value on both.

       But something also told Dev that Jenna was totally out of her element here. And not only because she looked like the type of woman whose idea of roughing it was a hotel where the guests were greeted by a valet, not an oversize mutt with a penchant for leather shoes.

       Dev watched a chipmunk disappear through a crack in the foundation and imagined an entire colony of the furry little critters living under the porch. Not the kind of neighbors Just Jenna would choose if given a choice.

       Then again, judging from the wary looks Dev had been receiving, she probably wouldn’t have chosen him, either.

      Keep your eyes open, Dev, Jason had liked to say. God puts certain people in your path for a reason.

       After several years of soul searching, Dev no longer found those words difficult to believe. Even if he did spend long periods of time in the woods to reduce the risk of it happening.

       But why would God deposit a reminder of the life he’d walked away from—even worse, a strikingly pretty reminder—less than a hundred yards from his front door?

       There could only be one reason that Dev could think of.

       He was being punished for something.

       “There’s a bed-and-breakfast about two miles from here,” Dev said slowly. “I’m sure you’d be more comfortable there.”

       And, to be honest, so would he. One of the reasons Dev had turned his late grandfather’s summer cabin into a permanent residence was because it provided the solitude he craved. If the owner of the cabin next door started renting it out on a regular basis, Dev would have to buy the place in order to prevent an influx of tourists from invading his privacy.

       “We were just there,” Tori piped up. “Abby has a dog named Mulligan, but he’s not as big as Violet.”

       “We had to stay there because of the fire but Grace—she’s our social worker—told us it was okay for us to come back home now,” her brother added.

       Dev’s attempt to make sense of the conversation was sabotaged

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